


My Brother’s Keeper

by Nightwang



Series: DC Kinkmeme [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bottom Jason Todd, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fuck Or Die, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt Jason Todd, M/M, Mutual Non-Con, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Sibling Incest, The Dick/Jason pairing is forced, Top Dick Grayson, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomiting, very brief suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24617089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwang/pseuds/Nightwang
Summary: “He’d read once that a possible symptom of a heart attack was an impending sense of doom. You knew something bad was going to happen, but you weren’t quite sure what it was going to be. In that moment Dick knew that whatever Roman was about to say it was going to bebad.”Dick and Jason are forced into a terrible situation.Forthis prompton the DC Kinkmeme.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Series: DC Kinkmeme [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779727
Comments: 27
Kudos: 221





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty graphic so mind the tags! If I’ve forgotten anything let me know :)
> 
> I would recommend checking out the prompt as someone else did a wonderful fill :)

Nightwing wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here, on his knees in a dingy warehouse, surrounded by goons, with Red Hood by his side. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he had just tagged along with Jason when they’d crossed paths on patrol. Hood had been following up on a lead and Nightwing had jumped at the chance to spend some one on one time with his prickly little brother.

It had been immediately obvious that they’d walked into a trap, and then equally obvious that it was a trap specially laid out for Red Hood. Nightwing was just collateral. Whoever had set this up had been prepared. Both Red Hood and Nightwing were unarmed and forced into kneeling in an impressively short amount of time.

The goons had searched them and taken their weapons - but had left both Jason’s hood and Dick’s mask on - and then they’d retreated to stand in a little circle around them, guns levelled at their heads. Dick wasn’t sure if Jason’s hood would protect him from a bullet or - more likely - if it would just shatter on impact. Either way, Dick’s head was very much _not_ bulletproof so hopefully none of the goons were trigger happy.

They seemed tense in a way that radiated excitement rather than anxiety. They should be at least a little nervous that they had two trained vigilantes at the end of their guns - and one of them a surprise at that - but whatever was about to happen seemed to hold more allure for them. Which was _definitely_ bad news for Dick and Jason.

“Can we maybe hurry this up?” Dick snarked. His knees were starting to ache at the position. He wasn’t exactly a spring chicken anymore and the floor of the warehouse wasn’t a luxury carpet. The goons didn’t reply. They didn’t even seem to acknowledge him, past their watchful gaze and the guns.

“Not really the chatty sort I guess,” Dick said, this time directed at Red Hood. Jason was silent and tense beside him, and also ignoring him.

“Rude,” Dick muttered quietly. He was starting to get antsy. He imagined that whoever had set this up was leaving them hanging in some attempt to psyche them out, letting the panic build. But this wasn’t Dick’s first rodeo. The adrenaline rush of the fight was starting to fade and kneeling in the same spot in silence was becoming boring.

He fidgeted slightly in an attempt to alleviate the pressure on his knees. It drew the focus of the goons and one of the men shifted the barrel of his gun pointendly. Dick made a face at him.

A door at the back of the warehouse opened and none other than Black Mask stepped through. Dick groaned internally, and then groaned externally as well. Might as well let the man know exactly how pleased Dick was to see him.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Jason said, surprising Dick. The deep, metallic ring of his distorted voice was weirdly loud in the quiet of the warehouse.

Black Mask stalked towards them, a worryingly pleased look on his face. “Well, well, two for the price of one.”

“Fuck off,” Hood snarled. Dick agreed with the sentiment. This couldn’t be good. Black Mask ignored him, brushing some imaginary lint off the shoulder of his suit.

“I was only expecting Red Hood really, but this is a bonus!” He sounded extraordinarily pleased with himself. It made Dick’s skin crawl.

“What do you want?” Dick asked when Jason didn’t offer anything else.

“Glad you asked,” Black Mask said and Dick wouldn’t be surprised if he gave them a little twirl, he was really playing this up. “I want to teach this prick a lesson.”

He held a hand up like a screen and pointed at Jason from behind it, winking at Dick despite the fact that Jason could clearly see what he was doing.

“What, you’re mad I busted your shipment last week?” Jason said with a snort that sounded really strange through the filter of his helmet. “I did warn people what would happen if they dealt to kids.”

Black Mask was surprisingly fast. The heel of his boot connected with Jason’s shoulder, knocking him back. The only thing that kept Jason on his knees and not sprawled out on the floor, was that Jason had obviously been expecting it.

“You lost me a lot of money,” Roman hissed, the entertainer vibe he’d had going was dropped abruptly in the wake of his fury. “And now you’re going to pay for it.”

His eyes flicked to Nightwing, his expression going pleased and faintly predatory in a way that made the hairs at the back of Dick’s neck stand up. Dick kept his gaze fixed on Black Mask, not one to back down, but he could see Jason tense in his periphery.

Dick yawned - over the top - and shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard it all before, why don’t you come back with something original.”

Roman stepped closer so that he was towering over Dick, grinning nastily down at him. Dick had to crane his neck to keep eye contact, but he wasn’t going to concede an inch to this man. Fingers brushed into his hair, deceptively gentle, and Dick’s scalp crawled where he was touching him, his lips curling back to show his teeth.

The fingers tightened painfully, tugging his head back at an even more awkward angle, as Roman leaned down until his lips were almost pressed against his ear.

“I was just going to let my men fuck him,” Roman purred, quiet but not quiet enough that Jason couldn’t hear him, judging by his rough growl. The words didn’t register at first, and then they hit him like a punch to the gut. Dick’s stomach flipped, bile burning at the base of his throat as he gasped desperately, almost breathless with anger. He was going to- they were going to- 

Roman chuckled, his hand slipping down to cradle the back of Dick’s neck, pressing their cheeks together. “I think I’ve got a better idea now.”

“You’re sick,” Dick hissed, beyond furious. “You’re a sick fuck!”

Roman laughed, loudly, his breath ruffling the hair behind Dick’s ear. “Oh sweetheart, you haven’t seen nothing yet.”

“Leave him alone,” Jason interrupted, and Dick couldn’t get a proper read on him with his voice filtered through the helmet. “It’s me you want, just let Nightwing go.”

“Hood no-”

“Let. Him. Go.”

Roman straightened, letting go of Dick, and if he’d been anyone else he might have toppled backwards without Black Mask holding him up. His neck ached at the sudden release of pressure.

“I don’t think so. In fact, he’s an integral part of the new plan.”

“Don’t fucking touch him,” Jason snarled, his muscles bunching like he was about to launch himself at Roman.

Black Mask looked unimpressed, rolling his eyes. “For God’s sake, you Bats are so predictable. Don’t worry your little cotton socks Hood, I’m not going to be touching either of you.”

Dick knew better than to think it would be that easy. His stomach was squirming uncomfortably, like maggots wriggling about in his guts. He’d read once that a possible symptom of a heart attack was an impending sense of doom. You knew something bad was going to happen, but you weren’t quite sure what it was going to be. In that moment Dick knew that whatever Roman was about to say it was going to be _bad_.

“In fact you’ll be doing all the touching,” he said, smiling. Dick stared at him blankly. What the hell did that mean?

He paused for dramatic effect, his gaze intent on Dick’s face as his words fell into the space between them like stones.

“Nightwing, you’re going to fuck him for me.”

He thought someone was shouting, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the sudden roaring rush of blood to his ears. He must have heard wrong. Roman couldn’t possibly want him to- to-

“Nightwing!” Jason’s voice was loud enough that the distortion fuzzed a little at the edges. “Listen to me, you don’t have to do this.”

“If you don’t, I’m going to have my men gang rape both of you and then, if you survive that, I’m going to blow your brains out.”

Dick wasn’t proud of the noise he made. This couldn’t be real. No way. He was having some kind of fever dream, maybe he’d been dosed with fear toxin or something.

“No,” he thought he said. “I can’t-“

A hand closed around his throat, tipping his head back until Black Mask’s grinning face swam into his vision.

“Well watching my men plow you both will be fun too.”

“Wing-“ Jason’s metallic voice rattled around in his skull. Why was it so hard to breathe? Roman’s fingers had brushed down to stroke over his collarbone, the heat of his skin seeping through his suit. And yet it felt like there were still fingers squeezing his throat closed.

“Wing it’s okay. We can- we can just do it.”

Dick felt a little hysterical. They could just do it? Was Jason serious? They were talking about Dick fucking him. About Dick _raping_ him.

He let out a wounded noise and curled forwards to press his face into his hands, his stomach bucking in protest. This couldn’t be happening.

“Think about it Nightwing,” Roman said quietly. “Either way Hood’s getting fucked. At least this way he might survive to tell the tale.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jason snarled. “You’re not helping.”

Except, Dick’s mind had latched onto that thought. Dick didn’t give a fuck about the threats to himself. There was nothing they could do to him that would be worse than this. But Jason…his brother had died once before, and there was no way in hell Dick could sit back and let it happen again. Not if he could do something to stop it.

“Okay,” he moaned, and he’d never hated himself more than in that moment.

“Wonderful,” Black Mask said, clapping his hands together. “I think you’d best take your clothes off now, hmm?”

He’d undressed in front of people countless times before. He’d even seen Jason naked before - when one of Ivy’s plants had sprayed acidic goop all over Red Hood’s trousers.

But this was different. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Jason as they both fumbled with their clothes. Dick didn’t care that all of Black Mask’s men were about to see him naked so much as the reason behind it. His nakedness was a weapon and Dick had never felt so exposed.

“Masks off.”

Dick looked at Jason automatically. He was naked, apart from his helmet, and it looked almost comically bizarre. Like he was a big red lollipop. Jason didn’t hesitate before unlatching the helmet and then pulling off the domino underneath.

Richard Grayson was far more recognisable. There was a much greater risk in Dick taking off his mask, but then he was about to rape his brother to keep them alive, revealing his identity was unbelievably easy in comparison.

Black Mask made an interested noise as Dick peeled his mask off, but didn’t say anything about the fact that he so clearly recognised him.

“Got ourselves a pair of pretty boys ain’t we?” He said with a laugh. Jason hissed out an angry breath beside him. “On your back I think, Hood.”

Jason got to his knees like an old man, stiff and awkward. Then he tipped himself back, his legs bending up in an attempt to cover himself, his eyes fixed intently on Roman.

Black Mask stepped closer to Dick. His hands were uncomfortably warm as they gripped his shoulders, turning him to face Jason and then pressing heavily.

“Down you go sweetheart.”

Dick sunk to his knees with more grace than Jason had managed. Roman nudged him forwards with a knee to his back and Dick shuffled closer until his leg touched Jason’s.

“Go on then, finger him open.”

Dick’s hands were trembling. Jason was watching him with dark eyes, his mouth pressed into a thin seam. It looked wrong - Jason on his back - oddly vulnerable.

“Just get on with it,” Jason gritted out, spreading his legs further to give Dick more room. If Dick was with someone that was consenting, or that he was interested in, or that wasn’t his fucking _brother_ , it would have been sexy. As it was, the move - combined with the resigned look on Jason’s face - just made him feel sick.

He wasn’t going to be able to do this. He didn’t know how he was going to get hard. Objectively, Dick knew that Jason was an attractive guy, and Dick was no stranger to having sex with men. But he’d never thought of Jason like that. Despite what Jay said, they were _family_. He was going to have to fuck his brother.

Sitting back away from Jason he took a shaky breath, swallowing heavily against the bile that surged up his throat. He wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it.

“Fucking hurry it up!” Black Mask snarled impatiently, and the reminder that they were being watched made Dick feel a million times worse. They were surrounded by men who were going to get some kind of sick pleasure out of watching Dick hurt his brother. He covered his face with his hands, his hot breath dampening his palms.

Fingers closed around his wrist, startling him into dropping his hands away. Jason’s face was uncomfortably close. He’d sat up as well, his knees splaying out against the floor, and he was close enough that Dick could see an almost unnatural green in his eyes.

“I know this is shitty,” he started.

Dick couldn’t help but laugh. “Shitty?! I’m about to have sex with my brother! I’m about to _rape_ you!”

Jason’s expression shuttered, his jaw tensing. “You think I don’t know that?”

He cut himself off with a click of teeth, looking away in frustration. It made Dick feel even worse - that Jason was trying to get them through this and Dick wasn’t helping.

“I can’t do it,” Dick breathed into the scant space between them. Shameful. Desperate. Jason’s face softened briefly, and then went startlingly blank, his gaze flicking up over Dick’s shoulder.

A boot connected with Dick’s back, pushing him down. He collided with Jason, forcing him to the floor with him so that Dick ended up sprawled awkwardly across his chest, his face smashing painfully into his collarbone. The boot ground into his shoulder, forcing a grunt from him.

“If you two fucks don’t hurry up and get on with it, I’m going to get angry.” Black Mask’s voice was low. Uncompromising.

“Wing-” Jason said, strained.

“Yeah okay,” Dick muttered. The boot lifted and Jason immediately pushed him back, his fingers too tight on Dick’s shoulders. Dick went easily, sitting back on his heels and Jason started pulling his legs together before seeming to realise what he was doing and freezing.

“It’s okay,” Jason said, and Dick wasn’t sure if he was talking to Dick or to himself. It might have been reassuring if he actually sounded like he meant it.

Dick shuffled closer on his knees and placed a shaky hand on Jason’s thigh. The muscle jumped beneath his palm, like putting his hand on a skittish horse.

“Can we have some lube? Condoms?” Dick asked. His throat was unbelievably dry, probably because he was sweating out all of his moisture. His palm was slick already where it was resting against Jason’s skin.

“No,” Roman said bluntly, amusement clear in his voice.

“But-”

“Just do it,” Jason interrupted, his jaw tight. Dick looked at him in surprise, searching his face. But his expression was unreadable, carefully blank.

Lifting his free hand to his lips, Dick sucked on his fingers, trying to build some saliva in his dry mouth. Spit wasn’t going to be nearly good enough, but he didn’t have any choice. He brought them down between Jason’s legs and pressed them up against him, breathing deeply. He could do this. Dick had done this before, he’d been on the receiving end a few times as well. But that had always been with enthusiastic partners and plenty of lube.

Jason inhaled sharply when Dick’s fingers touched him, and then exhaled slowly as he pushed one inside. It was tight, and dry and so, so not sexy. He thrust his finger gently, watching Jason’s face. It was going to hurt no matter what, but that didn’t mean that Dick shouldn’t at least try to make it better. He would do this as slowly as he could get away with.

Black Mask had drifted closer and into Dick’s vision, coming around the side. His expression was sickeningly interested. “Push his leg out, this view is terrible.”

Dick ground his teeth together hard. Jason spread his leg almost immediately, before Dick had to. He was absurdly grateful that he hadn’t had to do it.

“Add another finger.” God was Roman going to talk the whole time? Dick shot him a dark look, but he was focused on Jason, and what Dick’s hand was doing. Dick eased another finger in as gently as he could, but Jason still grimaced, turning his face away from Black Mask.

“Ah ah ah,” Roman pounced on it immediately. “Eyes on me,” he paused, considering. “Or on Nightwing I suppose.”

Jason scowled heavily, but he looked at Dick rather than Roman. Dick sort of wished that he wouldn’t. It was selfish of him, but this would be easier without Jason’s heavy gaze on him. The nausea returned full force and he had to take a deep breath. He didn’t think Jason would appreciate it if he threw up all over him.

Spreading his fingers and twisting, he slipped a third in. He was taking it as slow as he could, but he was also unsure of how much time they had before Black Mask got impatient again and demanded he just go for it. Jason grunted and pressed his lips together hard enough that they went white.

“Sorry,” Dick whispered. Jason shook his head.

Jason was getting hard, Dick realised with a start. He wasn’t exactly at full mast, just a slight thickening, but it was there. Surprisingly it didn’t make Dick feel better at all. This was being forced on Jason, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate the fact that his body was reacting positively to his violation. Dick himself was completely soft. He’d never been less turned on in his life.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying himself,” Black Mask sneered. Jason jerked, his face flushing, and Dick had the insane urge to hide him from Roman’s view.

“Shut up!” Dick snapped. Roman gave him an unimpressed look and then sneered, his gaze falling between Dick’s legs.

“You’re going to have to get more interested if you’re going to fuck him, sweetheart.”

Dick wanted to squeeze his legs together and stop Roman looking at him. His gaze felt sticky on Dick’s skin, sending shivers of disgust down his spine. But that wouldn’t be fair. If Jason had to be exposed and vulnerable, then Dick should be as well.

“I can get my men to help you, if you’d like,” Roman purred. Dick wasn’t sure if he was serious but Jason’s eyes widened, snapping to Black Mask, his lips curling back from his teeth.

“If they touch him they die,” he promised, low and deadly serious. A thrill of fear raced through Dick’s veins - if Roman took that the wrong way and Jason got hurt for him. But Roman just laughed.

“He’d best get on with it then.”

Pulling from Jason as carefully as he could, he dropped his hand to himself and curled his fingers around his cock. Jason exhaled heavily when Dick was no longer touching him, his face relaxing slightly.

This wasn’t going to work. He tugged at his soft cock, and tried desperately to get turned on. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of his favourite porn stars, soft curves and full breasts, smooth muscle beneath skin. He didn’t want to think of his previous partners. Didn’t want to taint those memories with this. He felt gross, like there was a film of dirt over his skin, and the small sparks of pleasure were mixing sickeningly with the horror and anxiety in his gut.

Despite everything, his cock began to swell, and if anything that made him feel worse. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to imagine anything but his current situation. He was at home, after a hard patrol, just taking the edge off.

When he was about as hard as he thought he was going to get, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Jason wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead glaring at Roman. Dick followed his gaze and startled when he saw that Roman was watching him intently, a dark look on his face.

“Is that all you can manage?” He sneered and Dick felt embarrassment heat his cheeks. His fingers tightened reflexively around his cock.

“Huh funnily enough I don’t get turned on by the idea of raping someone,” Dick growled, his voice stuttering over the words. Jason winced beneath him, his knees curling closer so that they were touching over Dick’s lap. It was a weirdly shy position, and the sight of it made his chest tight.

“Yeah yeah whatever you say sweetheart, just get on with it.”

Dick inhaled sharply. He couldn’t put it off anymore. He was actually going to have to do this. He felt like a fumbling virgin all over again as he leant over Jason, dropping to one elbow. It brought his face uncomfortably close to Jason’s, who caught his gaze with a grimace, spreading his legs again so that Dick could settle between them.

“Don’t worry about me dickhead,” Jason said, voice rasping. He brought a hand up to touch Dick’s cheek lightly, surprisingly tender. It took Dick by surprise. Jason drew his hand back so that his arms were tucked between their chests in a move that looked both protective and kept Dick from pressing against him. He was trembling, just slightly, but his gaze was steady.

Dick pressed his half-hard cock up against him and Jason stiffened, his eyelids falling almost closed before they flared open, his pupils blown wide in fear - a reaction that Jason couldn’t hide. Dick’s gut clenched harshly, but he pushed forwards anyway, breaching him inch by agonising inch as Jason grunted beneath him.

The tight, dry heat felt better around his cock than it had around his fingers. But Dick couldn’t get it out of his head that this was _Jason_. That this was his brother clenching around him and oh God, he was going to be sick.

He dropped his forehead to Jason’s shoulder, gasping in shaky breaths. The skin between them was slick with sweat but Dick couldn’t tell if it was from him or Jason, or both of them.

“Wing,” Jason breathed, his voice strained. A hand gripped onto his upper arm, digging in painfully, as Dick pulled out and thrust back in. Pleasure sparked shamefully up his spine, a garbled moan staining Jason’s skin where his mouth was pressed.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, the words spilling helplessly from his lips. Jason made a strangled sound beneath him. Behind them someone laughed.

The horror and fear and sick, _disgusting_ pleasure were swelling in his stomach. His face was wet. Was it raining? Catalina was holding his arms, their hips meeting and Dick wanted it to stop, wanted to push her away and beg her to please stop _touching_ him.

Except he wasn’t on his back, and the rough, ragged groans in his ear were decidedly masculine. He pushed up on his elbows and Jason’s face swam into focus. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face creased with pain, and oh god this was far, far worse.

He almost wished he was back on that fucking rooftop in Bludhaven. Anything would be preferable to this, to watching Jason - his little brother - try to hide his winces as Dick carved into him.

He hesitated, and Jason looked up at him. His gaze was hazy, like he wasn’t really seeing Dick, and he reached a hand up to brush his fingers gently over the wetness on Dick’s cheeks. Dick couldn’t help his flinch at the touch.

A heavy weight settled against his back, lips brushing against his ear. “Why did you stop sweetheart?” Roman’s voice, low and insidious. Tinged with lust. “I was enjoying the show.”

He ground his hips forwards, pressing the evidence of how much he’d enjoyed himself against Dick’s ass. The movement jolted Dick further forwards and Jason made a choked off noise beneath him. Roman reached past him and gripped Jason’s chin between his fingers.

“He really does make a pretty sight hmm, spread out beneath you.”

Bile surged hot and insistent at the base of his throat. He swallowed hard, breathing in deeply and focused on the hot press of Roman behind him, rather than Jason.

“Fuck you,” he croaked. His arms were trembling. Huh, he could hold this position for hours in training. What was wrong with him?

Roman chuckled, and Dick could feel the vibrations of it against his spine. Jason blinked, once, twice and his eyes grew sharper as he seemed to come back from wherever he’d gone, his lips curling up in a snarl. Dick kind of wished he’d go back to dissociating so that he could pretend this wasn’t happening. So that he didn’t have to see the protective fury on Jason’s face, because God he didn’t deserve it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason snarled, shaking his head so that Roman’s fingers fell away from his chin. “Get the fuck off of him!”

Like that was what was important here. Not the fact that Dick was currently raping him. Roman’s hands dug into his hips, jostling him against Jason in a poor mimicry of sex. The intensity of Jason’s glare sent his heart racing.

“Calm down,” Roman said, and Dick could hear the smirk in his voice. “It looked like pretty boy here needed some encouragement.”

Fingers against his lips, pushing into his mouth. They tasted of sweat and skin and brushed nauseatingly against his tongue. Jason jerked, pushing up on his elbows to snap at Roman over his shoulder and he was too close, his chest pressing against Dick’s. He couldn’t help the garbled whine he let out around Roman’s fingers.

Black Mask was laughing at them. He pushed Jason down with his other hand, his weight resting awkwardly on Dick. The sight of his fingers splayed across Jason’s collarbone made something angry and protective unfurl low in Dick’s stomach.

“If you don’t want my help, maybe you can do the encouraging hmm?” Roman purred, pressing his smile into the nape of Dick’s neck. “Tell him how badly you want him. Tell him to fuck you good and hard.”

The words slid like oil across Dick’s skin. Jason hissed like an angry cat, his body tensing, and that really didn’t help. Dick swallowed around the fingers in his mouth and Roman moaned obscenely behind him, pushing against him.

“Fine!” Jason snapped, and no, no he shouldn’t do this, Dick didn’t think he could take it. “Just- just stop touching him!”

“Say it.”

“I want you.” Bland, monotonous, the complete opposite of sexy. Roman pulled his fingers out of Dick’s mouth and pinched his nipple instead. Dick gasped and Jason’s nostrils flared wide, the tendons in his neck standing out sharply.

“Try harder.”

“Please fuck me good and hard, I want it. I want you,” Jason said again, and this time his voice was almost desperate. The words burnt through Dick’s chest, ringing in his ears. He’d gone soft again, and now the clenching of Jason around him was almost painful.

Roman shoved his still damp fingers into Jason’s mouth this time, and Dick could see the almost physical effort it took for Jason not to bite down.

“Good enough I suppose,” Roman said, and his weight lifted off Dick’s back, his fingers trailing over Jason’s jaw briefly as he pulled away. Dick stared at the slick trail of spit on Jason’s skin. He felt oddly light now, like he was going to just float away without anyone holding him down.

“Get back to it,” Roman ordered.

Dick ground into Jason. He didn’t dare thrust, worried that his soft cock would slip out if he pulled back. Jason still winced at the move. Dick could hear the rustle of clothes and then the slick sound of someone touching themselves.

God, Dick was never going to have sex again. He would never be able to masturbate again without thinking of this moment, without remembering the clench of Jason around him or his little brother’s pained face as Dick raped him.

Roman moaned heavily as he came and Dick couldn’t help the sob that escaped him. Could they finally be done? Would this be enough?

“Well, I certainly enjoyed myself,” Roman said. And then he was kicking Dick’s shoulder, knocking him off of Jason and onto his side. Jason grunted at the move and curled up. He looked a little like a dying bug. The sight made Dick’s eyes burn.

Fabric landed across Dick’s legs. “Get dressed.”

Dick’s hands were trembling as he pulled the suit up. As he tucked himself away he noticed something, blood, smeared on his cock. He’d made Jason bleed.

He couldn’t hold the bile back this time. Roman made an aggrieved noise as Dick threw up all over the floor, his stomach cramping painfully. He didn’t feel any better afterwards, but at least the sharp smell of vomit overpowered the stench of sweat and sex.

By the time he’d gotten himself back in order Jason was fully dressed with his helmet on. He was standing a little stiffly, his arms crossed, his whole body turned away from Dick.

Dick smoothed a shaky hand across the fabric of his suit. When he got home he was going to burn it. And then maybe he’d peel his skin off and burn that too because he was never going to be clean again.

“You’ve learnt your lesson I should think,” Roman said, his voice sickeningly pleased.

Neither Dick nor Jason said anything, but Roman didn’t seem to expect them to. He made a sharp gesture with his hand and one of his men came over with their weapons. Jason’s hand gripped his gun tightly enough that Dick could hear the leather of his gloves creak. He wondered briefly if Jason was going to just shoot Roman. For a dizzying moment, he kind of hoped he would, hoped he’d shoot Roman right in his disgusting fucking face and then Black Mask’s men would open fire and hopefully Dick would be dead before he even realised what was happening.

But Jason just tucked the gun into its holster and the rush of relief tinged with regret made Dick feel light headed. He couldn’t believe he’d even thought about it. Never mind the fact that they didn’t kill. Ever. The whole point of this had been to keep Jason alive. Dick didn’t think that he’d be the only casualty if Roman’s men started shooting. God, could Dick get any more disgusting?

“Hopefully we won’t see each other soon,” Roman was saying. He laughed at his own joke and then turned around with a wave, leaving the same way he’d come in. His men filtered out behind him and then it was just Dick and Jason standing in the warehouse.

“Jay-“ Dick started and then stopped. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think of anything that would make this better. He wanted to apologise, but he didn’t have the right to ask for absolution, not when he’d done something so unforgivable.

Jason turned sharply and walked out of the warehouse without looking back. Dick didn’t follow him.

Alone in the warehouse, silence pressing in from all sides, he started to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy it!

Jason had been MIA for an entire month. None of the others had been worried, why would they be? Jason routinely fell out of contact with them for months at a time.

For Dick, on the other hand, it had been a month of worry and stress and working his ass off every day in an attempt to distract himself. He’d been getting in early to the precinct, going home late, and then spending most of the rest of his time on patrol. So coming home to his Bludhaven apartment at 5am and finding Jason sat at his table was a bit of a surprise.

Dick had just gotten back from patrol, and Jason was dressed in his Red Hood armour but bare faced, his helmet sat on the table.

“Jason!” Dick said before he could stop himself. He reached up and took his own mask off because it felt wrong being masked when Jason wasn’t. Like he was fully clothed and Jason was naked.

“Wow, you look like shit,” Jason said, kicking his feet up onto the table.

“I’m sorry,” Dick said, because he couldn’t help himself. Because he’d spent the entire month Jason had been gone thinking of what the right words to say were, and coming up blank.

Jason grimaced, shaking his head a little like the words physically pained him. “Don’t- don’t apologise. Just, sit down.”

Dick sat mechanically. Stupid. Of course Jason wouldn’t want his meaningless apologies. But then why was he here? Maybe he was going to just shoot Dick and put him out of his misery.

“Did you- tell anyone what happened?” Jason asked quietly.

“No.” He’d been tempted to tell Bruce. If anyone could devise a fitting punishment for him it would be Batman, but ultimately it should be Jason’s decision whether anyone else knew.

He knew it had been the right decision when Jason’s shoulders slumped in relief, bringing a hand up to scrub across his face. They sat like that for a moment and then Jason leaned back, running a critical eye over Dick.

“Have you been sleeping at all?”

Dick shrugged. Here and there, snatching hours when the exhaustion outweighed his willpower. He had nightmares every time he closed his eyes. Mostly he relived himself raping Jason, occasionally Black Mask carried through with his threat to have them both gang raped and killed. Sometimes Dick raped Jason and Roman killed him anyway. Those were the worst ones.

“Eating? Jesus Dick you look like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”

“Why are you here Jason?”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably. “I wanted to say sorry.”

“What?” Dick must have heard him wrong. Did he mean he wanted Dick to say sorry?

“It was a trap for me. You shouldn’t have even been there and you got caught up in my bullshit so...sorry.”

Dick gaped at him. “Are you serious? I’m not the one who- who got raped.”

Jason’s eyes were dark but he didn’t flinch at the word. “Come on, I know you know better than this. You were raped just as much as I was. You didn’t want to have sex with me either.”

Of course he didn’t, Jason was his brother. But that didn’t matter, it wasn’t the same. “I hurt you.” He knew he had. The blood on his dick didn’t lie. The sight of Jason’s agonised face was burnt into his memory.

Jason grimaced and if he kept making that face it was going to get stuck like that. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Jason hesitated and then stretched his arm across the table to grab Dick’s hand. Dick, shamefully, flinched. He wanted to snatch his hand away. Jason shouldn’t be touching him, he was filthy, he was _poisonous_ and most importantly, he didn’t deserve the gentle way that Jason was linking their fingers together.

Something stopped him though. Jason’s face was twisted with anxiety and hesitance, but underneath was a different kind of fear. It urged Dick to grip the fingers back and press their sweaty palms together.

“Look Dick,” he started quietly, and then swallowed, “it’s not like this was the first time I’ve been- it’s not- I’ve been raped before okay? I know what a rapist looks like, and it’s definitely not you.”

Dick’s stomach churned. That didn’t make him feel better at all. Knowing that Jason had been victimised before, that he had something to compare his violation to, it wasn’t exactly a comforting thought.

Jason must have read something on his face because he sighed heavily. “You’re not making this easy for me.” Then he clenched his jaw shut, looking away like he regretted saying it immediately.

It dawned on Dick then that this probably _wasn’t_ easy for Jason. That having to tell his rapist that he forgave him - that it wasn’t his fault - couldn’t sit well with him, even if it was the truth.

“I’m sorry Jay,” he said, and then hurried to elaborate when Jason’s gaze snapped back to him with narrowed eyes. “I mean for making you talk about this.”

Jason shrugged. “Yeah well, I thought a lot about it in the last month.”

“Where did you go?” Dick asked, hesitant.

“Places,” Jason answered vaguely. “I’m sorry I kept you in the dark, I just- needed some time to myself.” He looked uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” Dick said because how could it not be fine? Of course Jason would want some space after what happened. Dick was just desperately glad that Jason wanted to talk to him now.

Jason pulled his hand back and Dick immediately missed the warmth of his fingers. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going, you know,” he made a gun with his hand, pointing his finger at his temple and pretending to pull the trigger, “crazy.”

Dick didn’t laugh and Jason let his hand fall lamely to the table. “You’re not...right?”

“Course not, you don’t have to worry about me Jay.”

An odd little half smile flickered across Jason’s face. “Right then, I’m gonna” he slapped the table and stood up, hovering awkwardly, “...go.”

“See you around Little Wing.”

Jason hesitated for a moment and then did an awkward salute motion, backing up towards the window.

“I _will_ see you around right?” Dick asked quietly. He wouldn’t blame Jason if he said no. If he was honest with himself, now that he knew Jason was okay, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of seeing a lot of Jason either.

Jason hesitated, one leg out of the window. “Yeah, see you around Big Bird.” Then he was slipping out into the dark chill of the early morning.

*

In the following weeks he didn’t see much of Jason. Didn’t see much of anyone really. But he felt better after their chat. He was sleeping more - he’d managed 5 hours straight the other night, a veritable record - and he’d been working less as well.

He’d only been asleep for two hours when the insistent ring of his phone dragged him from sleep. It was his emergency phone, the one Oracle had rigged to just keep ringing. He was awake almost instantly, his heart hammering painfully against his chest as he pressed the cool surface of the phone against his ear.

“Hello?”

“Dick,” Tim’s voice, frantic, and he’d used his actual name. Cold fingers of dread crept down Dick’s spine.

“What’s wrong? Is someone hurt?” Is someone _dead_?

“No, no, everyone’s fine.” Except that was clearly a lie because Tim was calling him on the emergency phone, sounding like he was about to cry. “But you need to come to the cave. Now.”

“Tim what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain when you get here, just, please.”

The line clicked off, but Dick kept the phone pressed against his cheek for a long moment, a thousand scenarios racing through his mind. Tim had called him, so where was Bruce? Maybe he was hurt? But then Tim had said everyone was fine.

He surged to his feet and got dressed in record time. The drive to Gotham had never felt so long. He’d worn his suit because Tim had told him to go to the cave and that usually meant vigilante business. Still, when he got there he was the only one suited up. Tim was dressed in his pyjamas, soft flannel bottoms that were long enough to almost cover his bare feet, and a ratty t-shirt that Dick was pretty sure had once belonged to Kon. His eyes were red, his face puffy, like he’d been crying. Bruce was wearing a suit, looking like he’d just gotten back from some fancy event, and his face was stony.

“What happened?” Dick asked immediately.

“Dick,” Tim started, his voice strangled. He floundered for a moment. “It’s- it’s not good.”

He trailed off into silence and if someone didn’t tell Dick what was going on in the next five seconds, he was going to lose his mind. Without saying anything Bruce leaned over and pressed something on the Batcomputer. The screen flickered to life and then Dick was staring at himself, naked and bent over Jason, Roman’s fingers in his mouth.

Dick couldn’t help the noise that escaped him. The video was shaky, like someone was filming it on a phone, and not particularly good quality, but Dick could still clearly see the way Jason’s face was screwed up in pain, and the wet streaks of tears and spit on his own face.

“Bruce!” Tim shouted and, blessedly, the screen went black. But it was too late, Dick had already seen it and - more importantly - the others had seen it as well.

Dick gasped in a desperate breath and then bent over and threw up, his head spinning, wet blurring his vision. A hand settled on his back and urged him down so he was sitting on the floor as Tim crouched beside him. Dick tried to focus on him, but he couldn’t quite convince his brain to cooperate. Instead he stared at Tim’s toes, curled against the stone. The hem of his pyjamas was splattered with vomit.

“What the fuck Bruce!” Tim was saying. He must have been shouting it because Dick couldn’t hear anything else over the rush of blood to his ears.

Warm hands cupped his jaw and then he was looking into Bruce’s terrifyingly blank face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Dick sobbed out, because he couldn’t say it to Jason but he needed to say it to _someone_ and it might as well be Bruce.

“What are you sorry for?” Bruce said, his voice clipped, and it sounded like he was waiting for a report.

“I hurt Jason, I should have protected him but I _couldn’t_ \- I failed- I- I _raped_ him Bruce!”

Beside him Tim made an odd sort of choking noise and Bruce’s fingers tightened almost painfully on his jaw.

“We saw the video Dick,” Bruce said. Dick’s insides quailed at the reminder and God if there was one copy there could be others. “What you did- it wasn’t your fault. No one is blaming you. We just-“

“You needed to know that there was a video,” Tim finished quietly. Dick didn’t remember anyone filming them, but he’d been pretty preoccupied at the time. Jason couldn’t know either, or he would have said something, surely?

“Jason?” He croaked.

“We tried to get in contact with him but we didn’t have any luck.”

“Don’t. I’ll tell him.” He couldn’t imagine Jason finding this out from Bruce. “How did you find the video?”

“It was sent to me,” Bruce said, letting Dick’s face go and sitting back on his heels with a sigh. “It was addressed to Bruce Wayne and family. Luckily it was only me and Tim who were there when I turned it on.”

Damian could have seen that video. His ten year old little brother could have seen it. His stomach churned angrily and he had to take several deep breaths.

“As far as we’re aware this has only been sent to us.” Bruce continued. And God, a whole new horror settled like ice in Dick’s guts. Jason’s identity was pretty safe - after all there were only a select few people who would recognise him - but Richard Grayson on the other hand. If Roman released the video everyone would know that it was him.

And the thought of other people seeing them like that, seeing _Jason_ like that, made him want to scream.

“Have you- has he talked to you? Jason?” Bruce asked, and his voice was tentative, so unlike him.

“Yeah, a couple of weeks ago, but not since then.”

Bruce looked away, his jaw clenching. “Is he okay?”

Dick stared at him. Was he okay? Was that some kind of joke? He almost laughed but the look on Bruce’s face stopped him. So he shrugged instead.

“Would you be?”

Bruce met his gaze and there was such _sorrow_ in his eyes that Dick’s heart skipped a beat, his chest painfully tight.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you...okay?” Bruce winced as soon as the words left his mouth, like he knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

Dick couldn’t help but laugh then, painful belly aching laughs that dissolved into sobs. Misery permeated the cave like a thick smog, choking Dick. He pressed a hand to his wet face and wished that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.

A hand settled tentatively on his shoulder, timid, like a little bird and Dick couldn’t help his flinch. Tim shouldn’t be touching him, he didn’t want to get his filth on him.

“Sorry,” Tim said, pulling his hand back, his voice shaky.

“No, m’sorry, I’m a mess,” he choked out between sobs.

“Dick, you don’t have to apologise for being upset,” Bruce cupped his own large hand at the back of Dick’s head, tugging him forwards so that his face was pressed into his shoulder. His suit smelled of smoke and ladies perfume and this was okay, he supposed. Even if he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry this happened to you chum,” Bruce said quietly and that was too much, the nickname spoken in that soft voice.

He pushed away, staggering awkwardly to his feet. Both Bruce and Tim followed, looking startled, their hands coming up as if to steady him. Dick flinched, his stomach rolling and when he turned around and stumbled to his bike neither of them stopped him. He had to leave, had to be anywhere but _here_. He had to find Jason.

As if sensing his mood, dark clouds had rolled in over Gotham and as Dick left the cave they burst, thick sheets of rain overflowing onto the streets below.

He should stop, should get his bearings, should think this through. The lashing rain made it hard for him to see and, besides, driving endlessly through the streets wouldn’t magically make Jason appear.

He pulled over into an alleyway. His hands were trembling, he realised, where they gripped the handles of his bike. How was he going to find Jason? He was probably asleep by now. He pulled his phone out, hesitating. Jason had given them all an emergency number to contact but he hadn’t picked up for Bruce and Tim. Would he pick up for Dick?

He dialed before he could chicken out. It rang and rang and rang and Dick’s heart sunk until: “What the fuck Dickface?” Jason’s voice, rough with sleep. “Why do I have twenty missed calls?”

Suddenly, Dick didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t quite catch his breath. “I- I need to talk to you.”

“You need to talk to me,” Jason said blandly. “And that warrants waking me up at the ass crack of dawn and giving me a heart attack?”

“Jay,” Dick choked out. “This is serious.”

Whatever Jason heard in his voice it must have rattled him because he inhaled sharply and then didn’t say anything else. The silence was unnerving.

“I’m in Gotham.”

Jason made a strange noise that Dick couldn’t quite decipher and rattled off an address that he didn’t recognise. The line clicked off and Dick sat there for a moment, shivering in the chill of the rain. Then he started up the bike.

It didn’t take long until he was parked up outside Jason’s safe house. Dread had settled over his shoulders like a cloak, making each step towards the door almost impossible. It swung open as he stopped in front of it, Jason peering round suspiciously.

“You look like shit,” Jason said, pulling the door open wider to let Dick in.

He was dressed in sleep clothes and he looked rumpled and achingly human in sweatpants and bare feet. Dick felt overdressed in his suit. He kind of wished that Jason had been wearing his helmet so that Dick didn’t have to see his face when he told him.

Dick peeled his mask off and stood, dripping, in the middle of the room. Now he was here he desperately wanted to be anywhere but. This was going to ruin everything.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked, coming around to drop heavily onto the sofa. His eyes were narrowed, lips pursed, and he had his arms crossed over his chest protectively.

Dick clenched his hands into fists so that Jason wouldn’t see them shaking. “It’s not good Jay.”

“Who’s dead?” And what did it say about them that they had both immediately jumped to that conclusion.

“No one, it’s-“ he hesitated and Jason scowled, slouching down against the cushions. “There’s no easy way to say this so I’m just going to say it. Someone took a video of us having- when I-“

He took a deep breath. Jason’s face had gone a startling grey, his eyes wide, but Dick kept going. “They sent it to Bruce, Tim saw it as well. I have no idea if there are more copies _or_ if Roman is going to send it to anybody else.” He swallowed heavily. “I saw the video and it’s pretty bad…really bad.”

Jason was silent for a long moment, his wide eyes fixed on Dick’s face. Then he lurched to his feet, spinning around and staggering into the bathroom. The door slammed shut with a bang that didn’t quite cover the sound of vomiting.

Dick had to swallow his own nausea down hard. His legs felt shaky, like they couldn’t quite hold his weight. He desperately wanted to sit down, but he didn’t think Jason would appreciate him soaking his furniture. So he stood uselessly where he was, waiting.

It wasn’t long before Jason reappeared, his face still pale, but slightly less grey looking. Sweat dampened his forehead, his white curl sticking to the skin, and he looked exhausted.

“Okay,” Jason said, his voice thick. “What now?”

Dick shrugged. “I’m not sure what we can do, except hope Roman doesn’t send it to anyone else.”

Jason scrubbed a hand across his face with a defeated sigh. “Great, he could send it anywhere, he could release it to the press.” He looked up and made eye contact then, and Dick could see the understanding in his gaze. If that video was released Dick was screwed.

Jason took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then blew it out explosively. He turned away and headed for the fridge, pulling out two beers. He handed Dick one without a word, slumping back into the sofa.

“Thanks,” Dick said. His lips felt weirdly numb as he lifted the bottle to them.

“Sit down would you?”

“I’m wet.”

Jason eyed him for a moment before getting up and heading into another room. When he reappeared he had a bundle of clothes, which he thrust into Dick’s arms. Normally he would have just stripped off there, but it didn’t feel right anymore, getting naked in front of anyone. Jason especially. He took them into the bathroom instead.

They were slightly too big on him. The sweatpants trailed the floor, low on his hips, and the shirt hung off of him. He hadn’t realised how much weight he’d lost in the last month. He’d always been shorter than Jason, slightly less bulky, but the difference now was startling. He almost didn’t recognise himself in the mirror. He covered his reflection with his hand. He didn’t want to see that sad, pathetic man anymore. That wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him.

Jason was sprawled out on the sofa when he left the bathroom, his head tipped back against the arm of the chair, staring up at the ceiling. Dick hesitated and Jason caught his gaze, bringing a cigarette up to his mouth. The smell of smoke made Dick’s stomach churn but he didn’t say anything, dropping down into the armchair opposite and catching the neck of his bottle between his fingers.

“What did Bruce say? When he saw the video,” Jason said softly. He wasn’t looking at Dick anymore, which he was absurdly grateful for.

Dick shrugged even though Jason couldn’t see it. “He wanted to know if I’d talked to you…he asked if you were okay.” He didn’t mention the fact that Bruce had asked about Dick. It wasn’t important how _he_ felt after all.

Jason snorted but when he brought the cigarette back to his mouth his hand was trembling. “Right. Why am I not surprised that after seeing a video of his sons fucking,” Dick couldn’t help his wince, “he just asks if I’m _okay_.”

“Jay I’m-“

“If you say you’re sorry I’m gonna shoot you in the face,” Jason snarled, glaring at him. Dick wasn’t really sure what he’d been going to say, it just felt like he should say _something_.

“No, I just-“

“What did Bruce say about you?”

“About me?”

“Yeah, about you…” he made a sweeping gesture with one hand, almost spilling his drink across the floor, “...you know.”

The beer was bitter on his tongue. “That it wasn’t my fault,” he said, almost whisper quiet. He wasn’t sure what exactly Jason wanted to hear - if Bruce exonerating him would make it look like Bruce was on his side, like Bruce didn’t care about Jason.

But Jason looked almost relieved. “Well at least he got one thing right.”

For some reason that didn’t sit well with Dick. His skin was crawling, the curling stink of smoke inciting the beginnings of a headache. He could feel the throb of it at his temples, matching the pounding of his heart. Suddenly, he was scared of what he might say, scared to break the surface tension that was stretched taut across the room for fear of plunging beneath the depths. So instead he sealed his lips over the mouth of his beer bottle and took a sip. He was gripping the bottle tight enough to whiten his knuckles and the heat of his sweaty palm had warmed the beer enough that he wrinkled his nose at the taste.

He should have let Bruce talk to Jason. At the time all he could think was that this was something they shared, this festering secret, - now not quite so secret. That Dick should tell him because Dick _understood_. But sat here now, beer curdling in his stomach, he realised he might have misjudged this.

Because Dick _didn’t_ understand. Not in the ways that counted. He didn’t understand how Jason could forgive him so easily, how Jason could just lie there on the couch sharing a beer with someone who had done something so terrible.

Maybe hearing it from Bruce would have been better. Maybe then Jason could have cried and raged and cursed Dick to hell without having to worry about Dick’s feelings, without having to put on a brace face. But then, knowing Jason and Bruce, maybe not.

Jason rolled off the sofa, startling Dick from his thoughts. “I think maybe something stronger hmm.”

He crouched down and pulled a bottle from a cupboard with an aha. He poured two _big_ glasses, passing one to Dick and then bringing the bottle over with him. The strong smell of whiskey brought a grimace to his face. Jason chuckled into his glass.

This was a bad idea for so many reasons. Drinking away your misery was a slippery slope. It wasn’t going to make Dick feel any better, and besides Dick was a sappy drunk. Still, that didn’t stop him from tipping the glass back and downing the amber liquid. It burnt on the way down, heat unfurling in his chest.

Jason whistled. “Not bad dickface,” he said, shaking the bottle at him. Dick held his glass out for a refill.

They drank in maudlin silence, avoiding looking at each other. Dick felt like an intruder, the silence too loud and the space too small. He felt a little light headed, the smoke and the whiskey getting to him.

“You’re single right?” Jason said suddenly.

“Yeah.”

“And you were single before…”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Have you-“

“No,” Dick interrupted. He didn’t like where this conversation was going, didn’t want to talk about sex - or his lack of - with Jason.

Despite his reputation, Dick didn’t actually sleep around. He’d only been in a few relationships and he’d had even less...encounters outside of those. But even if he _did_ sleep around, he wouldn’t have been having sex now. He hadn’t even touched himself since- since he…

He took another burning gulp of his drink. They’d gone through almost all of the bottle by now and Dick was starting to feel the effects. His face felt hot, his stomach churning. Jason had closed his eyes with a hum, his glass tipping dangerously.

“I don’t-“ Jay slurred, “I don’t even _like_ men.” He gave a wet laugh that had Dick’s chest clenching. He didn’t know what to say. Selfishly, he wished that Jason wouldn’t talk about it. He didn’t want to talk about it. Repress, repress, repress.

Jason’s lashes were wet against his cheeks. Dick’s stomach bottomed out with horror. Jason was _crying_. Even when Dick had been raping him, he hadn’t cried. Though Dick had cried enough for the both of them.

“Jay-“ he murmured, voice thick.

“It’s stupid,” Jason interrupted, throwing an arm across his face. Whiskey sloshed out of his glass, splattering onto the floor and across Jason’s fingers.

“It’s not stupid.”

For a while the only sound in the room was Jason’s heavy breathing. There was a weird pressure against Dick’s ears and a rolling nausea that was mixing terribly with the alcohol in his stomach. Jason sat up abruptly, slamming his glass onto the table with enough force that Dick was surprised it didn’t shatter. He’d obviously moved too fast because his face went pale and he groaned, dropping his head into his hand.

“This is bullshit,” he muttered, quiet enough that Dick wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it. He staggered to his feet, swaying dangerously for a moment and Dick almost moved to steady him but stopped just in time, slumping back into his seat. Touching Jason seemed like a very bad idea, especially now when they were both raw and emotional.

Jason stumbled over to stand in front of Dick, looking down at him with a ferocious scowl. Dick blinked up at him. The alcohol was making him slow, his mind too fuzzy to work out what Jason wanted. Then he reached down and grabbed onto Dick’s biceps, dragging him up so they were standing uncomfortably close. Dick could smell the sour tang of alcohol, his nose wrinkling as Jason stared at him intensely.

“Wha-” Dick managed, before he was tugged forwards into a crushing hug. Jason was stiff against him, his arms bruisingly tight around his ribs as Dick’s face was smushed painfully against his shoulder. He stood there blankly, his own arms hanging limply by his side, as his brain tried to catch up to what was happening. Jason was _hugging_ him. Dick brought his hands up to press flat against Jason’s back, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

“Will you stay?” he said quietly, his breath soft against Dick’s neck.

Throat tight, Dick just nodded. Jason pulled away and Dick let his arms fall. “Are you sure?”

“You can take the couch,” Jason said, then hesitated, “if that’s alright?”

“Yeah of course Jay.”

Jason patted him awkwardly on the shoulder and then shuffled towards his bedroom door. Dick watched him leave in silence, waiting until he was out of sight to flop down onto the sofa, pressing his face into the cushions. Jason’s sofa was unreasonably comfortable for how little he seemed to care about his safe house.

Dick was exhausted. It had been a long, agonising night and he felt flayed open, like his skin had been peeled back to show all his soft, vulnerable insides. He wished he was still in his Nightwing suit, even if it wasn’t the most comfortable outfit. He felt stronger in his suit, Nightwing was powerful and brave. Dick Grayson, on the other hand, was falling apart.

Seeing Jason visibly upset had shocked Dick a little. Not that he had been upset, because who wouldn’t be? But that he had let himself be vulnerable in front of Dick. And Jason had hugged him.

No matter what happened now - if that video got released, if everyone found out what a terrible person Dick was - as long as Jason was alive and as well as could be expected then Dick could manage.

He’d have to.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr at [nightwang96](https://nightwang96.tumblr.com/) if you want to stop by for a chat :)


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